Beyond Birthday: Beyond the Limit: Beyond LLawliet
by Author of Scifi
Summary: If you can't play the game...then you're just a loser. BB... Beyond Birthday... he was never dead. Now he rises once again to assert his superiourity over L. Based on Death Note: Another Note: LABB Murder Cases L is After Beyond Birthday
1. Chapter 1

**Beyond Birthday**

**Beyond L**

**Beyond the limit**

**Yes, I know that B went to jail, but for my story to work I decided to put him in asylum. A'ight? Don't get all uptight about it, you nitpicky cretin.**

**Chapter 1**

_Five years before present day. This is a few months after the closing of the Kira case. _

Blake leaned his head back against his chair, cracked his neck, left it in that strange position; and smirked. He chuckled strangely. "Henh henh henh…"

His dark brown hair had grown wild. He wore a plain white tee shirt and faded, old jeans. His eyes were dark pools that had the power of a Shinigami, even his pale skin had the pallor of a Shinigami's skin. The paleness couldn't be helped though… he had had to bleach his skin. His suicide attempt had left him looking like a 3D jig-saw puzzle gone wrong. He knew that those scars would mark him when he escaped from the asylum. He had always know he would be able to escape...

B, like everyone else, had heard of the Kira murders; criminals all over the world being killed by heart attacks. Hearing that, B, with his vast knowledge of chemistry and biology, managed to make a concoction using some medicinal substances from the asylum to make it look like he died from a heart attack. Just to make sure it didn't look suspicious that only one person from that asylum had died, before he attempted to feign his own death he gave a few other inmates (who had committed crimes but had been put in asylum instead of jail) the same substance but altered it just slightly to make it lethal. By the time B gave himself the concoction no one suspected that it was just a farce. After he was put in the morgue, he used his belt buckle to make a makeshift lock-pick and managed to escape (the morgue was a separate building from the rest of the asylum) into the night. After that, he managed to steal some money from a nearby but isolated gas station (he managed to get about 5,000$ from the cash register and a safe in the back behind a vending machine) using the same makeshift lockpick, careful to leave no fingerprints, but not too worried about any other sort of physical evidence because he was bound to not be the only one who had come to that gas station today. With a set of ATV keys that he found in the safe, he stole one of the ATVs behind the gas station and drove to the closest city. There, he contacted one of his 'friends'; a criminal who specialized in not only making fake IDs but making fake backgrounds as well, who B had blackmailed a while ago, thinking it would be useful to have such a person on his side. The aquaintance, who happened to live nearby in LA (the asylum was relatively close to LA) made B a new identity as 'Blake Holders' and allowed B to live with him until B could get enough money to buy his own house. B aquired a rather nondescript job and eventually managed to buy his own hous. Then, all he had to do was wait until the Kira case was over. He knew L would never even think of allowing people near him during the Kira case.

He briefly thought about the LABB Murders again. What had really made him wonder was why he hadn't been put in jail but had been put into asylum. He figured L had had something to do with that.

He shuddered as he remembered the experience of flames rolling across his body, burning him alive… badly. He _hadn't died_ though. Still, it was probably better this way. Whether he died or not, L had defeated him the first time; better that he lived through the experience to try again.

_I should have shot myself instead… would have fit in the pattern as well and wouldn't have left such an obvious mark_. That didn't matter though… because he didn't plan on committing suicide anytime soon.

Beyond Birthday, or Blake, as he now called himself, straightened his neck and stood up. _Jam… I need jam, _he thought. He walked over to his fridge, opened the door and grinned. While he never had liked sweets a lot, when he had been masquerading as L about a decade before the downfall of Kira he had acquired a taste for jam. He grabbed a new jar, twisted off the top, and dug two fingers into the jar. He brought the fingers up to his mouth and started licking the sticky substance off his fingers. The scene was slightly disturbing, to say the least, because the jam was reminiscent of blood. When Beyond glanced into the mirror above the sink he grinned evilly. He liked what he saw in the mirror. It reflected his inner turmoil.

Beyond shook spastically and dropped the jam jar. The sharp pieces of glass sliced into his feet, but he didn't care. He just stood there, shaking and... laughing. At first it was just a soft, normal chuckle. Then it started to sound as if he was trying to cry, but ended up laughing right after he had consumed about a gallon of tequila. Then it bloomed into a full scale maniacal _cackle_ that would but a drunk, high, and demented hyena to shame.

He narrowed his eyes and grinned manically. He was angry… _extremely _angry.

Beyond always kept a level head. Truthfully, he had never lost his temper for an extended period of time before. He viewed the world as if he was removed from it, and faced atrocities with a cold heart; which ultimately allowed him to kill three people and attempt to kill himself. For the short time Beyond had known Mello, he saw that Mello's main flaws lay in the fact that he was extremely emotional. At least, extremely emotional compared to himself or Near. Beyond thought Near would probably be the best successor for L if L ever died. However, B didn't consider Near worthy of being competed with. Not yet, anyway.

Despite B's unnatural ability to keep a level head, even he couldn't hold in the thirteen year's worth of pure raw _anger_ that he had been sure to suppress during his time in asylum and while he was living with his acquaintance.

When he finally allowed himself to contemplate what his defeat meant… that anger manifested itself in a maniacal laugh, cackle, nay, something the English language could not even describe… that anger manifested itself into a whatever-you-may-call it that put Light's _chortle _to shame.

B let out a deep, shuddering breath. He was calm now. He growled deep in his throat. There was only one way to make L atone for his sins. With his own blood.

Beyond slowly smirked and started removing glass from his feet. He had never considered such a brutish option before because ultimately, his goal had been to surpass L, not eliminate him. However, any plan that he might have come up with to utterly stump L would have had to inevitably involve B committing suicide; L was now aware that B would resort to even this, however, so the only viable option left to B was to kill L.

Beyond wrinkled his nose in distaste. It was regrettable he would have to resort to such a base and crude plan. Still, he knew exactly how he would get to L.

While Beyond had been with his 'acquaintance', he had asked him to also make him fake PhDs in Police Science and Law and forge a PI permit so that he would eventually be able to act as a private investigator. He would be able to masquerade as a private detective and eventually sign on with the Japanese Police Force, which would get him closer to L. Now, however, he had an even better organization to sign on with; the SPK.

The SPK (Special Provision for Kira) had arisen about half-way through the Kira case. Once a shadowy and unknown organization, it had branched out and accepted more members to discourage other Kiras from emerging, should more Death Notes come to the human world. It also seemed to almost take over L's old responsibilities and took up crimes of unprecedented scope or difficulty. Undoubtedly it was headed up by L, or at the very least intertwined with L somehow. Why else would it have become more of a Japanese FBI than a purely Kira-related organization? Why else would the SPK even have been worried about cases that normally L would have dealt with? To Beyond, it was painfully obvious that L was still involved with the SPK.

It was possible to join them, but it was very difficult to even talk to anyone of status from the organization. B, however, managed to hack into some of the major Japanese Police Force threads and had researched who was being accepted into the SPK. Generally, they were from the Japanese Police Force, but there were around ten private detectives who had been accepted into the ranks (out of about one hundred recruits). Beyond would use his license to become a private detective and start to distinguish himself by solving cases swiftly, decisively and accurately. Once he had built up an impressive résumé in a few years, he would apply for the SPK (which was possible if you had the right contacts. B was sure that he would have such contacts in a few years once his résumé was built up).

Beyond was very patient.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Present day. Five years after the Kira case. Crime rates are elevated but not out of control like one might expect. Plenty of work for a PI, though._

B listened to his client's story, attempting to maintain an interested façade. In truth, he already knew who the culprit was. Let's call him Criminal B. He was bored out of his mind listening to the client explain who she thought had 'done it'; let's call him Criminal A. Her deductions were completely off. She was focusing on the superficial evidence and not considering the psychological part of things. While there was ample physical evidence convicting the one she thought guilty, there was no motive for that person. There was also a small amount of evidence convicting another person, but that person had ample motive. It was obvious to B that it was a frame-up since the evidence that convicted Criminal A was easily forgable. He was just surprised that this woman didn't realize that Criminal B was more likely. Maybe it was just because B was a genius and had seen many cases like this one, but still…

_People are idiots_, he thought, as if he wasn't a person. Perhaps he wasn't fully human, due to his Shinigami eyes. He held up his hand to stop his client's speech mid-sentence. "What about John?"

"John? Well… he might have motives, but what about the physical evidence convicting David?"

"How hard would it be for John to get some of David's hair, blood, and/or clothing fibers?" Before his client, Janet, could answer, B said, "Not very. From what I've heard, these two dislike each other to some extent but see each other all the time. It would be fairly easy for John to maybe take some of David's clothes. They go to the same gym, and maybe John stole some of David's clothes while David was swimming. Now, John does have access to the blood bank because he's a doctor?"

"Well…"

"Yes or no answer, please."

"Yes."

"And David tries to donate blood as often as possible, correct?"

"But… yes."

"And some people did say that they saw David at the clinic where John works, correct?"

"Yes."

"Did David have any reason, except to kill your aunt, to be at the apartment around the time of the murder?"

"Not that I can think of."

"Now, this is an extremely important question. _Was there any sort of physical evidence that even remotely involved John with the case?_"

"Um… I don't have access to that sort of information."

B sighed. He guessed he would have to go over the police files himself. He would probably end up heading to the crime scene himself. _How dull_, he thought.

"Your information has been most helpful, thank you, Ms. Derris. You may leave now."

"Thanks you, Mr. Blake. I never even thought that John might be involved in the case."

"He's probably the killer, believe me." With that, he turned toward the large window at the back of his small office (his office was in the front of his house), bidding Ms. Janet Derris leave. Taking the hint, she exited.

B sighed, closed the blinds and sat down at his computer desk, opened his laptop, punched in the password (LIAB248), and accessed some police files that he had been given permission to access pertaining to his current case. While he wasn't directly involved with the American police force, he did have ties to them. While he scanned over the information, he thought about when he would head over to Japan. He stayed in the U.S.A for a while as a PI mostly to give him a more believable background. It would seem slightly suspicious that someone who had no previous ties to any sort of investigation teams moved over to Japan and directly started PI duties. It wouldn't be overtly suspicious, but it would be the sort of thing L would be bound to take note of. Also, he would need more money, and he had know he would make quite a lot from his PI duties.

In about four years he had made himself the reputation of a brilliant and accurate PI who was swift in solving all his cases. He had never made a wrong assumption, and had solved cases that even the FBI couldn't. He was almost like LA's own little 'L', but he didn't worry too much about showing his face. After all, he looked nothing like Beyond Birthday now.

While he was still pale, he took pains to make himself look civilized and business-like. He had managed to tame his naturally wild dark brown hair and make it look normal. He was always seen wearing suits. In private, he would opt to wear more casual wear, but never in public. Why? Basically, because L would know who he was if he dressed like Beyond Birthday had; in loose, white shirts and faded jeans. And while L knowing B's identity was desirable for the LABB Murder Cases, it wasn't desirable for this operation.

B focused on the poilce files once more. They had what he was looking for, he had no need to go to the crime scene. Which was good. He had other things to do.

He strolled over to the picture on the side wall of his office, lifted ir up, entered the combination on the safe embedded in the wall, opened the safe up then grabbed some night-vision goggles out of the safe. He then walked over to the other side of the room where there was a door and opened it. When you opened the door, all you saw was what looked like a normal bathroom. If you walked in and turned on the lights like any normal person, it would be practically impossible to see the faint square outline around the light on the ceiling. The only way to see it was to enter, turn off the lights and use night-vision goggles (flashlights didn't work because the light reflected off the glass on the light, making the outline invisible). B pulled up a tile in the bathroom, grabbed the compactable aluminum ladder hidden there and propped it up underneath the light. Then he twisted the light bulb out and yanked on the socket. A trapdoor opened. He climbed up using the ladder, and then pulled the light aluminum ladder up behind him. He closed the trapdoor and turned around, looking at the entryway to the attic. He procured a key from his breast pocket, inserted it into the lock and went through the door. He walked over to the tool-bench in the middle of the room, grabbed a few thin pieces of wood, and went to work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Uhhh… this chapter is going to be a little weird, and one part in particular will probably come off as pretty stupid, but that's mostly for a sort of comic relief thing… and I was too lazy to think of a better way to make it work (you'll know what I mean when you get to it)… so… anyway… read on.**

**Chapter 3**

B rounded a corner in his house, reflecting on his last successful case (John had been convicted and sentenced to life in jail for third-degree murder) when he ran into a Shinigami.

It bore some resemblance to the Shinigami Rem from the first Kira case, but it was completely black with only a few thin white lines to break up the monotony. It had a large, feathery headdress-like adornment on its head. B ran into it… literally. He shook his head for a second, wondering what on earth he could have run into. When he looked up he gave a rather unmanly squeak and backpedaled around the corner. Then he took a deep breath and stepped around the corner.

"What… _are _you?" asked B.

"Meh, you aughta know," said the Shinigami rather lazily.

"Ah… ahhh…" B took a deep breath in and held it for a few seconds, then let it out. He'd always instinctively known that Shinigami existed because of his eyes, but still… such an abrupt confrontation. "Shinigami," he said matter-of-factly.

"Meh, yeah. I got somethin' to ask of ya, bub."

B couldn't help but chuckle a little. This ill-spoken Shinigami had something to ask of _him_? "What?"

The Shinigami leaned down close to B's face and said, "I need my eyes, bub," he said pleadingly.

B was shocked. He had figured that the eyes would have been permanent, that he could do nothing about them, and that he would just have to live with them; like living with a chronic disease. Now, however, he had a chance to be rid of his curse forever!

B had Shinigami eyes, through some quirk of fate, which allowed him to see the true names and lifespans of people. Because of that, he instinctively knew about Shinigami. Also, he could see Shinigami because of his eyes even though he'd never touched a Death Note. Anyway, the thing was that B had never come in contact with a Death Note, and without a Death Note Shinigami eyes are next to useless and quite depressing. You know when all your friends and family will die, you are constantly consumed with the fact of _death_; humans die. It's enough to make one go mad. To B, they were a curse, a malignant, chronic disease that couldn't be undone. Now, here was hope.

Still, B had questions. "How did I get your eyes in the first place, Shinigami?"

"Oh…" the Shinigami seemed slightly embarrassed. The Shinigami, Orf, had expected the human to yell, scream, whimper, and give the eyes back without a fuss. Yet, aside from the initial signs of surprise, he seemed totally at ease in the presence of the Shinigami. It impressed and intimidated him at the same time. "Well… I remember a while ago I came down to the human world because I was bored. My friend told me to go to a place called the 'Whammy House'. Said there were some interesting kids there. When I first saw Mello I fell in love with him…"

B couldn't help snorting. "Mello? You fell in love with Mello?"

Orf shirked back a little. "Well… he was just so tiny and cute and… and… I loved the way he played with his little trucks. But I saw when he would die and I was so saddened… I decided to take off my Shinigami eyes so that I wouldn't have to see the time of death for the other kids."

B rolled his eyes. How _stupid_… "You took off your eyes?"

"Well… not my eyes… Shinigami 'eyes' are actually just the outer hard part of our eyes that is removable, like contact lenses. If a human gets them, they can't take the lenses off, but the Shinigami can take it off for the human. Anyway… I took mine off and when I went into your room, and I accidentally dropped them."

"You…" B shook his head. This story was just getting crazier and crazier.

"And when a Shinigami drops their eyes they can't pick them back up because they belong to the human world. So you, you were a baby at this time, see, picked them up and put them in your eyes!"

B turned around and slammed his head forcefully into the wall. He had never imagined that such a stupid mistake could have cost him his sanity.

"That's the most insane story I've ever heard in my life," B growled as he turned to face the Shinigami again.

"I know, I know," lamented Orf. "That's why I just now approached you. I didn't want to embarrass myself but… I haven't taken any human life since because I'd never know how much time I have left. I _need my eyes back because I only have about a century left to live_. Please? You won't even miss them because all memories of Shinigami and your eyes will disappear!"

B was tempted to immediately say 'yes', but he figured since the Shinigami was this desperate, he could probably get something more out of the deal. "What if I like your eyes?"

"Eh?" The Shinigami hadn't expected this. Shinigami eyes must be a curse to those who aren't Shinigami or don't have Death Notes. Why didn't this guy just give 'em up? And Orf couldn't just take the eyes… according to the rules, a Shinigami could only take his eyes back if the human was willing.

"I like your eyes. They're quite helpful to me." Beyond chuckled menacingly.

"But… but… ah come on guy! I need my eyes!!" The Shinigami was distressed. If he didn't have his eyes, he wouldn't know how much life he was getting. What if someone only had a day left and the he slacked off on killing people? He could die! No matter what, he would get his eyes _back_. "I'll do anything… _anything _just PLEASE! I need my eyes!!"

"Hmm…" Beyond leaned against the wall he had previously slammed his head against and smirked. "First, I want you to tell all your little Death God friends to not kill me or a man known to humans as L." B wanted the pleasure of ending L's life to himself.

"Hey, no problem there! I swear it by my Death Note!" A Shinigami's word is much more binding than a human's; if Orf broke his word, then his Death Note would be destroyed. Without his Death Note he was nothing; he might as well be dead. Again, B knew how binding a Death God's word is instinctively.

"Secondly, I want you to give me fifty years of your life. Once you get your eyes, you can get that much life back easily." Orf nodded empathetically and swore by his Death Note that he would. Although a Shinigami would die if he extended the life of someone he loved, Orf was starting to severely dislike B; thus, he was safe if he lengthened B's life.

B thought about what else he would want a Death God to do for him. He couldn't think of anything right off the bat and he was afraid that if he stalled too long the Shinigami would just screw the eye deal and wouldn't do it. "That's it," B said shortly.

Orf heaved a sigh of relief. "All righty. Now… can I have my eyes back? _Please?_"

B heaved a sigh and said, "Yes. I give you permission to take your eyes back."

"And after I get my eyes back, I'll give you fifty years of my life and I'll go and tell and Shinigami I know to not kill you or the one humans call L. And you'll lose all your memories of Shinigami too. Well… let's do this!"

B stood absolutely still as Orf reached his hand toward him. He felt a sharp but short pain and then…

B shook his head. What had just happened? His head hurt a whole lot. He had just rounded a corner and then…

B shrugged mentally. He wasn't the sort of person to wonder overmuch at all of the strange things that happened in the world. He cracked his neck a few times and continued his walk down the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

**Now do you guys get what I meant in the prelude for the last chapter? Lol, I hope someone out there got a laugh or two… because we're about to get serious again. At least, for a little bit. So… enjoy! Oh, and I LOVE reviews, I live for 'em. So if you liked the story enough to fav/sub to it, could you at least write a few words, good or bad? THANKS! Much love ^^**

**Chapter 4 **

B grinned maniacally at the prone figure that lay helplessly before him. He walked slowly, slowly toward it. It had jet black hair, pale white skin and hollow, deep, black eyes. It wore baggy white clothes and faded, loose jeans. It yelped in terror as B approached, the long, serrated knife in his left hand drawing little circles in the air.

When he was directly above the still figure, he lifted it up by its hair and swept the knife down close to its throat, stopping a mere fraction of a millimeter in front of it. "Well… what do you have to say to me now, _L?_ Who's won _**now?**_"

L yelped and squirmed out of B's grasp only to get stuck in a corner. B approached, swaying slightly, bringing the knife up. He grinned suavely, brought the knife up to his own wrist and made an incision, one just big enough to get blood flowing. He smeared the blood on his fingers and started to caress L's face, leaving red streaks that contrasted alarmingly with his pale, white skin. "Well? What do you have to say…_Lawliet?_" B sneered, hooked his bloodied fingers under L's chin and yanked his hand up and out, forcing L's head to snap back into the wall. L touched his face tentatively and stammered, "B… oh gods Beyond, why did you turn out this way? Don't you know the _hopes _we had for you? Don't you know how much I respected you? How much I _loved _you even… loved you like a son?" L's eyes were frightened, and his normal cool manner had dropped completely, exposing his true feelings for once. _This _would be the last time he would show any feeling, or in most cases absence of it. This would be the last day he would be alive.

"Hah! All I ever was was a distant tool, something made to replace you should you ever die. Do you know how demeaning it is, L? To be held as a successor for one that you could surpass straightaway?"

"B… Beyond Birthday… you weren't ready!"

"_I wasn't ready?!_" B roared. Then his voice dropped into a sadistic purr. "L. Lawliet. I was always ready. Always ready for _you._ In every sense of the word."

B took his bloodied wrist and rubbed it on L's white shirt until a rough 'B' was formed, all the while Lawliet shook uncontrollably, helpless. The drug had done its duty well. B raised the knife and whispered, "Well. This is goodbye L. It was fun."

Somewhere from behind him a door burst open.

"_Ryuzaki! Ryuzaki!" _B sat straight up in bed, shaking his head, allowing his wild hair to come to a rest over his eyes. What? Why? He had been so close… he had just wanted to feel the knife gliding through L's throat as L screamed and begged for mercy. He had wanted to step back and watch as L clutched his severed windpipe, desperate for air…

"Uh… Ryuzaki? Are you all right there, buddy?" He realized that he had been muttering _L Lawliet_ over and over again under his breath. B got out of the bed, grabbed the black shirt that was draped over a nearby chair and put it on before answering, "Yeah, I'm fine, Ling." Ling was one of B's oldest friends. They were actually friends… surprisingly, B had made a few friends in his life despite his obsession with L and his Shinigami eyes. He hadn't seen Ling in a while though, but for the life of him, B couldn't remember why he hadn't even talked to the guy. Probably because when B had had the eyes he had been tormented every time he thought of Ling. A price he had to pay whenever he made friends; which was very rarely. Now that he had lost all memories of Shinigami, he couldn't remember why he hadn't associated with the guy at all for about twelve years.

Ling was a clean-cut guy. He had no criminal record, had never even thought about thinking of committing a crime. Still, B found him amusing, in an interesting way, perhaps because of the guy's sickening innocence. To B, Ling was a link back to the normal world, the world with people whose consciences hadn't been completely destroyed and cast aside.

And of course, Ling had no idea what B's true self was like, the B that wasn't the one that he was sure to portray to those he often associated with: the B that took some strange pleasure in experimenting with different ways to make a human die; the B that loved to smear his victims' blood over his lips and taste death in its very essence; the B that could murder a thirteen year old girl, then poke out her eyeballs and crush them without the slightest qualms. The B that only L knew about; and B's victims of course, but none of them were alive.

Anyway, Ling was Japanese, and when he heard his long lost friend Rue Ryuzaki was moving to Japan he _insisted_ that B come over, play some video games with him, eat some pizza, drink some beer and discuss all of the interesting things that had inevitably happened to him while they had been apart (and of course, B hadn't discussed the full extent of his exploits). B accepted the offer, mostly because it had been many, many years since he had even thought of having such a care-free experience. So, when B got his new Japanese apartment situated, he packed some clothes, his toothbrush, and his favorite video game (yes, B played video games. One of his favorites was Super Mario Sunshine, but he packed Star Fox: Assault. You could actually play multi-player on that) and headed over to Ling's to spend the night.

B had had more… well, _fun _that night than he had had in an extremely long time. Even after all of his, erm, _exploits_ he was a normal human… deep, deep, deep down in a pit which is inside a larger pit which is inside a mountain which is situated in a world of despair… and he took pleasure in just eating pizza, drinking some beer and pwning (had he actually said 'pwned' after he had defeated his friend for the third time in a row on Star Fox: Assault?! Yes he had… how embarrassing) his friend at Star Fox: Assault. He had even enjoyed chatting with his friend about mundane matters such as politics and relationships.

But this morning, after that particularly vivid dream/fantasy, he was in a foul mood dangerously close to the actual B: the B that could kill thirteen year olds and such. So when his friend stepped forward and patted B on the back affectionately, B snarled like a beast and grabbed his friend's arm. Then he flipped Ling over onto the bed with disturbing ease and leapt on top of him, bringing his wild-eyed face close to Ling's terrified one.

"Uh… buddy… _what are you doing?!_" Ling started stammering.

Beyond realized what he was doing and immediately leapt off Ling as easily as he had leapt on. He rubbed his eyes and slammed an open-faced hand against the side of his ear. Why had he lost control so suddenly?

"Ling, I'm sorry! So sorry! It's just that being a PI has made me a lot more wary of physical contact." The excuse was lame, but Ling, no mental giant, would probably accept it.

…which he graciously did. "Hey B, yo, it's cool man. If you can help it I'd rather not repeat that experience though, know what I'm saying?" He straightened out his rumpled shorts and ACDC T-shirt (that he wore only in the house. He didn't really like ACDC but his friend had given him the shirt) and grinned sheepishly.

B nodded. "Of course."

They walked over to Ling's kitchen (which was filled with empty pizza boxes and smelled like pepperoni) and got breakfast. Ling grabbed some Raisin Bran Crunch cereal and some milk, along with a bowl.

Beyond, of course, headed straight to the fridge, grabbed a full, unopened jar of jam and sat down at the kitchen table with his friend. He twisted off the cap, shoved two fingers into the red, gelatinous mass and then licked the jam off his fingers, taking care not to be as violent as he would have been if he was alone.

Ling looked up and just shook his head. "Man, I don't know how you eat that stuff straight."


	5. Chapter 5

**Except for maybe Chapter 4, I had the most fun writing this Chapter. I'm really starting to expand and show all sides of B's personality; the one that truly and utterly hates L, the side that is fun (!) and laidback, and the side that is calm in any sort of situation. Not quite sure how to explain the personality unwrapped here, but… well you can decide.**

**REVIEWS PLZ! ~much love if you do~**

Chapter 5

"Nice to see you again, buddy! Let's do this again soon!" Ling yelled his final goodbye to B as he walked away. B had always walked a lot in LA; he didn't plan to break that tradition while he was in Japan.

He turned and gave a little two fingered wave. Then he focused back on the path he had to take to get home. As he walked back, he glanced at one of the street vendors, who was selling delicious smelling dumplings. B, who didn't just like jam, bought three and munched them pleasantly as he walked down the busy streets of Japan.

"Life seems so… normal," he mused. Ever since he had moved from his acquaintance's house and had got his own job, life had been rather mundane, boring even. He almost missed killing people, and he certainly missed dressing up as Ryuzaki and messing with Naomi Misora's head. B couldn't help smirking at that thought. Now, however, he figured things were about to get _much _more interesting.

B planned to apply for the Japanese Police Force.

"You'd like to apply for the Japanese Police Force?" asked the secretary at the front desk of the police station.

"Yes." The woman couldn't help chuckling a little. The man didn't seem like police material; at _all. _He wasn't anywhere near muscular… in fact, he was downright skinny. He was extremely pale as well. Did this man ever see any sun? He was dressed well enough, but his dull, hollow eyes didn't look particularly intelligent, nor did they have the authority a police officer's should have. He was also extremely soft spoken; not a good trait for a police officer.

"Uh… could I see some credentials, please?"

"Yeah, sure," B said, procuring a large stack of papers from seemingly nowhere and setting it on her desk. "The top few inches are about a fourth of my cases when I was a PI in America. Then there's my college records, I have PhDs in both Police Science and Law. The rest is just some papers to validate my identity." The secretary arched a surprised eyebrow, and said, "Could I have your phone number and address…"

"You'll find them, along with other important information, on the top sheet."

The secretary glanced downward to see that the man was correct. "Well… after we go over this, we'll call you, OK? It will take quite a while to…"

"I'll wait in the lobby."

"Sir, it will take at least six hours…"

"I'll wait in the lobby." The man's tone hadn't changed at all, rather it was his eyes… his _eyes!_ They were no longer simple hollow black pools. They were sharp, clear, and most of all, intimidating. They seemed to pierce into the back of your mind, forcing his will into you when the entirety of your being screamed to do the exact opposite of the malignant force's will. He simply stared at the secretary, and the woman, an extremely civilized lady, felt like crawling under her desk and cowering there, just _away _from that gaze.

She realized that she had just been staring at the man.

She broke the stare and said, "I-if y-y-you w-w-wish, sir," the secretary stammered. She attempted to regain some of her dignity and said, "Still, I'd think it would be better if you just went home. We will call you, I assure you."

"Is my being in the lobby… a problem?" It was those _eyes _again! Again, he was still as soft-spoken as ever.

"No, of course not, sir. Not a problem. Just… wouldn't you be more…"

B cut her off again with another of his piercing stares. "Then I'll wait in the lobby."

The secretary bowed her head, mumbled, something like _guy's a freaking psycho_, called someone on her phone, then proceeded to pretend B didn't exist.

"Just _look _at this guy's credentials! It's too good to be true! PhDs in Police Science and Law with simply _amazing _grades all through college, an enormous résumé of successful cases back in America when he was working as a PI. On top of that, he's had previous training with guns? And he has a completely clean record, not even a speeding ticket or parking violation? This guy is a dream case!"

The Police Chief nodded. He respected the senior police's opinion, but he still remember the secretary's expressed concerns about this man. Why had he insisted on staying in the lobby? Was he just stubborn? Was he attempting to assert his superiority over the secretary? Then there was the disturbing description of the man himself, especially his eyes. Such domineering, piercing eyes were those that a PI would be expected to have, naturally, but the way the secretary had described them, you would have thought the man had borrowed eyes from the devil himself.

While B had had Shinigami eyes for a while, it wasn't that fact that gave him such hypnotic eyes. It was, well, himself that made his eyes so.

Anyway, such a ominous report was disturbing, but not concerning enough to be the reason to turn such an amazing man away from at least an interview.

"Very well. We'll have him interviewed first. If he checks out there, we'll give him a civics test. If he checks out there, we'll gauge his physical abilities. If he passes all tests, he will be admitted as a new police officer."

The secretary, Ayaka, had been chosen to conduct the interview. She still remembered the terror she had felt as she had approached Blake Holders, not only to tell him to attend the interview but that later she would have to actually _interview _him. She dreaded seeing his eyes again most of all.

"Sir?"

The man didn't even look at her. He just continued staring blankly at the lobby wall, a slight smirk on his face.

"We've looked over your credentials and have agreed to have you interviewed to see if you will be a suitable candidate to be a police officer."

No change of expression from Blake.

"We will call you and inform you of the date. And sir, you _cannot _stay in the lobby until then, as it will probably be several days before we get you a time slot."

Blake's smirk simply got bigger and he turned toward the woman. She shirked back but caught herself before the movement became too apparent. Too late; Blake had seen her flinch. His smirk grew just a little bigger and he stood up. He started walking toward her. She didn't move, _couldn't _move. The power of his eyes was too strong. He stopped only a few inches from her. For a horrific moment, she thought he would kiss her. She couldn't even imagine what his lips would feel like on hers. Surely they would feel like evil, seductiveness in its essence. _Seductiveness?_ she thought with a shudder. Had she really just thought of this man as seductive?

But he just gave a slight bow, turned sharply and left the station without a further word or gesture.


	6. Chapter 6

**Mmm… B just keeps getting closer and closer to his goal, huh? Will he actually be able to make it into the SPK, though? And if so, will he actually be able to find and elimate L? Well… you'll just have to subscribe to find out. Reviews also, let's say, motivate me to write more faster so… if you like the story, review it won't you? And if you didn't like it, tell me what you don't like about it so I can fix it. Anyway… **

Chapter 6

The call didn't come days later like Ayaka had expected (and had been hoping for) but a mere twelve hours later. By the time B had left the station, it had been nine p.m. He received the expected call around nine a.m. B, who didn't sleep that much anyway, was wide away by that time. They said that twelve noon on that day would be fine and B, of course, had no prior obligations.

B stepped into the police office at 11:55. He glanced at the secretary; today it was a different woman than the one who had previously greeted him. He stepped up to the desk and stood there, waiting for the woman to take notice. The woman didn't look up. B just stood there, with an indifferent expression on his face.

The secretary, of course, knew the man was there, but she'd be cursed if she would try and get such a rude man to acknowledge proper conduct. She would just wait until the man spoke to her.

Two minutes passed until finally she gave in. She glared at the man and hissed, "It would be proper if you would pose your inquiry to me, not wait for me to question you." She was clearly annoyed.

B didn't say anything, just stared. The secretary couldn't help but chuckle softly at his eyes. They were bored and baggy looking. Surely, this wasn't the man whom the other secretary had been so afraid of. Then it happened.

The man leaned down onto the desk, putting his face mere inches from the woman's. The secretary scooted back, preparing to slap the presumptuous young man, when she saw his eyes. They weren't the same though… they were cold, calculation, and most of all manipulative. She felt as if she couldn't break away from that gaze, yet she wanted with all her being to crawl under the desk; much the same feeling her partner had had.

"I'm here for an interview," he said in a near whisper. The secretary cowered and managed to yank her eyes away from the man's. "Mr. Holders?" she asked emotionlessly.

He said nothing, just gave a slight nod of validation. He then stood up and asked equally emotionlessly, "Where am I supposed to go?"

"Follow me," she said. She couldn't help but shudder. The last thing she wanted this disturbing man to do was follow her, but she had a duty to do. She felt genuinely sorry for whoever would have to interview him. Those _eyes!_

She stood and walked briskly down a hall. B followed, staying right behind her right shoulder. He was so close she could hear him breathing. It was slow, calm, and oddly deliberate. She pointed to a door that led to a Spartan room. Nothing was in there except a table, and two chairs on each side of the table. The walls were a drab gray, and a single light hung from the ceiling. "In there. You will sit in the chair farthest from the door and will wait for your interviewer to arrive."

B didn't even look at her again. He just entered into the room, closed the door softly behind him, and sat in the chair. He focused on one particularly dark spot on the gray wall and stared at it, thinking about all the unpleasant things he planned to do to L when he finally caught up with the cretin…

The door opened. B didn't even look at the person who walked in; he'd see him as soon as he sat down.

B was fairly amused when the person who sat down was the secretary who had greeted him the first time he had come to the police station. He was even more amused when he saw how agitated his interviewer was.

"Why so anxious?" asked B. "I won't kill you. There's bound to be surveillance in here." B chuckled. There was no humor in the laugh.

The secretary squirmed. Was he suggesting that if they were in a remote area he would kill her?

"Are you suggesting that if you weren't under surveillance, you'd kill me?"

"No."

"Then what are you suggesting?"

"You are unsure of my morals or my character as of now. To simply say 'I would never kill anyone' seems childish, like a child saying that he never lies. Thus, I supply a more logical reason to support my claim 'I won't kill you'."

Ayana nodded. It was a satisfactory response. "Let's get on with the interview."

Silence.

Ayana took a deep breath and said, "Define justice."

"In what sense?"

"A legal one," said Ayana, slightly annoyed.

"_The quality of being right or correct."_

_"_In your own words, not an answer from a dictionary," hissed Ayana, who was getting more and more annoyed. Thing is, Mr. Holders hadn't done anything wrong. Asking for clarification of a question might be considered flippant by a parent's standards, but in a legal profession things had to be taken literally. Thus, she didn't have justification to be getting angry at Mr. Holders. It was that fact that angered her the most.

"In my own words, eh?" B leaned back in his chair. He had decided early on that he wouldn't attempt to intimidate his interviewer. He didn't want to even chance getting rejected. "Justice is those that are good being commended and those that are evil being punished using a legal system."

Ayana nodded and wrote it down quickly using shorthand. It was an acceptable response.

Of course, without an acceptable standard of 'good', justice meant nothing or could be twisted to mean something else completely. The only thing that really made his answer acceptable was the little tack-on at the end… _using a legal system_.

B, however, considered himself his own legal system.

The rest of the questions were similar, questions that were supposed to delve into the deeper parts of your soul and see if you really had a proficient enough sense of justice to become a police officer. Many of the questions had little barbs that would trick those that didn't have a good sense of justice into picking a more… _sinful?_... route. B, of course, was intelligent enough to spot the traps and evade them with amazing ease. One such question was:

"A mother is being harassed by a drunk on the street. You know, however, that the mother had been previously convicted of child cruelty. What do you do?"

The trick was that some people might decide the mother deserved what she was getting and their response would be something like 'leave her alone since she is a criminal', exposing a weak moral conscience.

Personally, B could care less, but he couldn't say that aloud. Of course he saw the simple trap that lay within and answered the politically correct way; "Help the mother and convict the drunk; no matter what the mother's previous crimes, she is a human being and is entitled to human rights."

The interview went on for about two hours. The secretary was surprised that Mr. Holders was doing so well. His answers were always at least satisfactory and most of them were perfect. Some of the questions had extremely difficult barbs to find; for someone to answer to quickly, accurately and surely about all of them had to mean that he had an extremely well developed sense of justice. It couldn't possibly be an act; only an L doppelganger could pull such a feat off!

After the interview was over, Ayana escorted B back to the lobby. "If you'd like to wait about an hour while I and some other people review your answers, you can."

"Is it possible for me to just come back tomorrow and get my results then?"

Ayana was taken aback. Why did this man want to wait six hours in the lobby one day, and then the next didn't even want to wait an hour for his results? What was up with this guy?

Although Ayana had to admit… during the review Mr. Holders hadn't been very sinister at all. In fact, he had been downright friendly and almost charming. Ayana had been surprised to hear herself giggle at the man several times during the interview when he made a clever pun that she normally wouldn't have found very funny.

She was horrified when she realized she was blushing. She turned away quickly and said, "I'm sure that will be fine, Mr. Holders. Goodbye."

B smirked and walked out of the station.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Shlock! Went the wooden board when B landed on it. B lept off gracefully and rolled when he hit the ground. From a crouching position, he sprang forward, easily dodging the 'bullets' that were flying around him using the meager cover provided by small cylinder-type objects. He slid easily underneath a pole, rolled sideways and brought his legs around, sweeping one of the shooter's legs out from underneath him. B leapt up easily and ran effortlessly toward the flag. He shimmied up the pole, plucked the flag off the top and jumped down. He stuck the landing and darted behind a large, tall, round object meant to represent a tree. He caught his breath and jogged toward the mock police car. He touched it and asked, "How was that?"

The Police Chief, Sochiri Aio, was extremely impressed by Mr. Holder's performance. He asked his secretary, "Are you absolutely sure that this guy has never been part of a police force or any other sort of military force?"

"Absolutely. I've done a thorough background check on him. He is extremely brilliant, but he has no sort of ties with any sort of military or police force."

"He's so… strong! His stamina is simply amazing and he is as lithe and swift as a cat. Just look at him though! He's so thin and pale…"

He noticed Blake staring at him. He looked at him and said, "That was fine, Blake. Could be better, though." It was always better to make your recruits think that they weren't at their best so that they would push harder. He would never tell this man how much he had exceeded his own expectations.  
_Hmph… normal people are so easy to read._ _I know exactly what you're thinking, Police Chief Sochiri._ You're wondering how such a scrawny person with no prior associations to the military or any sort of police force is so adept at the physical exercises. While no one really thought about it, at the Whammy House you were forced to go through rigorous physical training in arts such as tai-kwan-do, karate, but mostly capoeira. Capoeira is a less popular type of self-defense, but it was effective for one in the investigative field since it mostly involved dodging and light blows, allowing you to see your assailant's face. It was also one of the best forms for developing flexibility. While didn't build a lot of muscle, but kept the body thin and wiry while maintaining strength and stamina.  
B walked toward the police chief. "Is that my last test for today?"

"Um… oh, yes," said Sochiri absentmindedly.  
B bowed graciously. "I will await your verdict eagerly, Sochiri." There's no way he'll turn me away. I've got him wrapped around my finger.

`B opened up the fridge and grabbed (you guessed it) a jar of strawberry jam. It had been three days and he still hadn't been contacted by the Japanese Police Force as to whether he was accepted or not. B could only think of a few plausible explanations for this; one, accepting him too quickly would make the police force as a whole seem arbitrary, two, they were wary of him because he was so perfect, or three, didn't want to accept too quickly, in which case he might start thinking he's special and develop attitude, motivational and/or issues with authority. Frankly, B didn't really care which, but he was really irked that his plan, which had gone so smoothly up to now, was being stalled. B was patient, but he did not enjoy unnecessary delays in his plans.  
He opened the jam jar, about to stick his fingers in when he heard a strange shuffling noise near the kitchen window, which was near the front door. He quietly put the jar back into the fridge and walked slowly and carefully over to the window. He cautiously looked through and observed the area. Nothing.

So…that's him. A white haired young man walked down the street, humming a tune in F# major. He had expected the PI prodigy from America to look a little different…  
No, I'll stop lying to myself…I had expected him to look just like L. I kept telling myself no one could possibly be as good as that and not be him. Guess I just don't want to admit he's dead.  
The man sighed. _I was never ready to take your place, L_. _Myself, Near... I'll never be able to completely surpass L_. I might have solved the Kira case but… _I still have emotions. I never show them, oh no, but surely you didn't even feel emotions?_

He abruptly stopped his humming. As he turned the corner he had noticed someone following him. Ah, crap. He continued down the sidewalk, acting as if he didn't know he was being tailed. He grabbed the hood on his jacket and put it on quickly, hoping that his stalker hadn't rounded the corner yet so that he would be able observe the gesture. Still, it was cold out, being winter, so it wouldn't be too suspicious if he had his hood on. Problem was, that hood restricted his peripheral vision.  
Who is following me? I hope it's not Blake… he's not supposed to know about me yet. But there's no one else who would be following me…

He walked calmly around another corner, walked a few more blocks then ducked into a McDonalds, taking off his hood and taking off his jacket. He would be less recognizable that way. He sat in a chair that was fairly far from the door and kept his eyes peeled on the large storefront-sized window at the front of the McDonalds.

_Was he the one who was sneaking around my house?_ wondered B. After the man had rounded a few corners he'd given up trying to follow him. It wasn't that important anyway. Still, that man just seemed so familiar… B shrugged and headed back to his house.  
He slapped his head when he saw that he had a missed call. Talk about coincidence… the answering machine confirmed his suspicions; the police department had called him in those few minutes he had been gone and implored him to call back as soon as possible.

B sighed and dialed the number given to him. "Hello, Japanese Police Department speaking," a voice answered.

"This is Mr. Holders. I apologize for not answering the first time you called."

"If you called, I was told to tell you to drop by the police station tomorrow, at eight-thirty in the morning. Come prepared for training."

B's grin widened. "Very well."


	8. Chapter 8

Meh heh… had a lotta fun with this chapter. I've had this type of idea for a while… weeeeellll if B's going to be in the police force we've absolutely got to have him interrogate somebody -) Lol.

Anyway enjoy and REVIEW!!!!!

Chapter 8

B felt like banging his head on a nearby wall. However, that wouldn't do anything good for his image, so he simply gave a slight huff of exasperation.

By this time, B had been with the police force for about three months. During this short time he had played in an integral part in about four major investigations and three minor ones, not only as a police officer or a testifier in court, but as an investigator. He was officially a police officer, but unofficially, he did an enormous amount of extremely swift and accurate investigating that a normal police officer (a novice at that) wouldn't even touch. He displayed an immense knowledge of psychology that few people with even psychology PhDs couldn't match. His grasp of the human mind and human emotions was uncanny, yet he never showed any emotion himself. Well, that's not completely true. He exhibited a confidence, an assuredness, and an authority that irked many of the senior police officers. Who was this novice to be so active in so many investigations and to be so confident to boot? they would wonder with irritation Even many of themselves weren't as confident as this guy was. Then there was the way he treated people; he never said anything disrespectful, but he was particularly skilled in showing how much he held you in contempt without making it so apparent as to where you can give substantial evidence that he's being disrespectful. All those facts together made him rather unpopular in the social scene around the station. Of course, B was never social to being with, and he was content to sit in a corner and observe a room with his searing eyes. He had no wish to engage in social dribble.

He had also gained a reputation as an amazing interrogator.

Which was why he sat inside the interrogation room at the police station now, barely resisting the urge to slam his head against the wall in frustration toward the current investigator. All he was doing was offering leniency to the one being interrogated, Hisao Hiroshi, if he would just cooperate. An effective technique against those who were weak in mind or resolve; but this man was not. B stood up abruptly, making the wooden chair he was sitting in scrape loudly against the floor. "Let me take over," he said emotionlessly.

"Blake… you can't! I know you've had success in the past, but you're not an official interrogator, and this is a very important case!"

"What could it hurt?"

"Blake, come outside with me for a second…" They exited the soundproof room. "I allowed you to watch, to learn, not to participate!"

"Do you have a... problem with me?" asked B quietly.

"Well, first of all I've heard that you use...extreme methods. We cannot harm this man. Secondly, well, you're not the interrogator here!"

"I swear, this man will suffer nothing more than maybe a slight scratch."

"But… slight is subjective. Slight to you could be sliced wrists."

"Fine… what's slight by your terms?"

"Uh… not bleeding."

"He will not bleed. I swear it by my honor as a police officer."

The interrogator huffed and mumbled, "Fine…" To be honest, he was tired of dealing with the pig-headed idiot. At the very least, he'd get a rest. Until Blake got tired of trying to break the guy, of course.

"I'd also ask that you not come in while I'm interrogating."

"What?! Absolutely not!"

"I've already promised that I won't draw blood. Why do you want to watch? I just don't like people observing my work."

The interrogator sighed unnecessarily loudly. "Fine! Have at him." No matter how amazing they say this guy is, there's no way he'll be able to get this guy to talk if I can't.

B sat down across the table from Hisao and asked, "What's the name of your ring leader?"

Hisao snorted and spat in B's face. B didn't flinch even as the saliva ran down his neck. He just stared…

Hisao looked into B's eyes and shuddered. They were dark pools that seemed to tell of cruelty, sadism, torture… still, that wasn't enough to break him, Hisao! This guy was a fool.

B just stared… and stared… and stared… Hisao started to squirm. Unfortunately for him, the interrogation was just beginning.

"Mr. Hisao… do you fear pain?"

Hisao snorted and didn't answer.

"Do you fear…death?"

Hisao snorted once again.

"Because I can inflict both."

"Ha! I'd like to see that," he blurted out in a rush. "You're pathetic, you know that? You think mere threats like that can get me to talk? Besides, you cops wouldn't hurt a prisoner. You've got too strong a sense of justice." He said the word mockingly.

B smirked, but kept staring. "I'm not in this because of my sense of justice." He laughed. The humor never reached his cold, cold eyes. "I'm in this because there is someone I must meet. But that's none of your concern. Your only concern right now is whether you want life to be short and painful or long and relatively painless."

Hisao snorted again and spat at B again. "Again, you're pathetic. You really think I'm that weak?" Hisao was getting slightly unnerved by this guy, but he would never show it.

B, however, could see the way his eyes darted, could see the slight glisten of sweat above his upper lip. "Let me tell you, I have no problem killing people. In fact… I find it rather… enjoyable." At this he leaned forward and stroked the man's cheek, dragging his nails gently along the man's face. His nails left white trails on his face, but he was careful not to draw blood.

Now Hisao was officially freaked out. "Dude… what are you doing. Stop touching me!" He jerked back, causing his stool to flip over. He grunted as his back hit the hard concrete floor.

B had gotten up and was standing over the man. He knelt down, hooked his fingers around the base of the man's skull, brought his head up and put his own head down close to Hisao's terrified eyes. He said in a near whisper, "I used to be a serial killer."

Hisao couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it, but the way he talked, the way his eyes… the way he felt in general… Hisao forced a laugh all the same. "I'll bet you were! If you're a serial killer why are you involved with the police, huh?"

"Because there is someone I want to get to… someone I must get to."

"What, a girl that you fell in love with in high school?"

B just chuckled. Mirthlessly. "Oh no… not a girl." He stood up, taking the man's head with him and thus forcing the man to stand up.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife. He started walking slowly, slowly toward Hisao, who had now scampered away into a corner. What is with this guy? Common sense and logic told Hisao to just sit back down in the stool and act cool… this guy couldn't, wouldn't hurt him here. But everything else in him, the superstitious parts and the parts that didn't pay any heed to logic or common sense, told him to get away from this lunatic. Just… away. That part of him won.

Unfortunately, the farthest away he could get was in a corner, and of course, such a solution was painfully temporary.

He stood up and tried to look the maniac in the eye… when had he gotten so close?! His face was barely three inches away from his face. He had one hand on the wall near his head. The other hand held the pocket knife, which danced in small cirles.

B spoke in a deadly whisper. "You come from America, don't you?"

Hisao was confused. What was the point of asking that? They already knew that the international drug ring he was commissioned with was stationed in America. He was from Japan, but had been in America for the past twenty-five years. "For the past twenty-five years…" he said, trying to keep his voice from trembling. Gods, he had to get away…

B smirked mirthlessly and slowly brought the knife up to the man's cheek. He stroked it delicately along his cheek, down his neck, along his shoulder… Hisao jerked to the side but B grabbed his neck and shoved his back into the corner. "Don't move, or I might, say, accidentally slice about two inches into your arm."

Hisao shuddered. He didn't have a very high pain threshold; he feared pain more than death. And B could sense that.

B started caressing his cheek again and said in the same deadly whisper, "I have a little secret to tell you."

Chills ran up Hisao's spine. "Wha… what secret could you possibly want to tell me?"

"You lived in America for a while, so I'll assume you heard of the LABB Murder Cases?"

"Uh, yeah, but what does that have anything to do…"

B brought the knife down towards his own arm, made a two inch long gash in his own arm, put the blood on his own finger and made a B on Hisao's face.

What… what is this guy's problem?! Hisao of course couldn't see what B had put on his face, but he was officially scared out of his wits. Why had this guy just cut himself? Why had he put his blood on him… gods, he wanted it off, off, off! He had no problem with blood, of course, but… this was just so different!

B leaned close to Hisao's ear, brought up the knife close to his neck, brought his other bloodied hand up to Hisao's cheek, smearing the B and whispered, "I'm B."

For Hisao, the world went out of focus for a moment. All he could hear was B, B, B, B…. Then he snapped back into reality and with startling clarity he realized that this man was not lying, even though Beyond had never been physically seen on the news; again, L probably had something to do with that. Who else but the crazy serial killer himself would claim to be Beyond Birthday? Why would anyone else but the crazy serial killer himself claim to even be B? The only explanation was that this person, this lunatic really was B.

To put it simply, Hisao was way beyond afraid right now… way beyond terrified… way beyond petrified. He was scared on a level that no English word can properly convey. How would you like to be trapped in a room with a crazy serial killer who had his knife right by yours, had his blood on you and had you backed into a corner, barely three inches away from you?

"Y-y-you're t-t-t-telling the t-t-truth, aren't you? You r-r-really a-a-are… Beyond Birthday…"

B unleashed a maniacal cackle that made every single hair on Hisao's body stand straight up. "I'm so glad that you believe me. Understand this, though…" B brought the knife up in front of Hisao's nose and waggled it back and forth hypnotically. "If I am arrested under suspicion of being a serial killer, I'll know who tipped the police off. And I'll escape, just like I did the first time. I will find you, no matter where you are, and I'll make your life short and very, very, very painful."

Hisao didn't doubt that for a second.

"And I have been given permission to use extreme measures to force information out of you, considering the size and scope of this case. The only reason I haven't yet is because I'm sure you're a reasonable man. I'll have you know that no matter what it takes, I will force the information I need out of you. You might as well make it was painless as possible."

B backed away from Hisao, put away his knife, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, picked up the stool and forced Hisao into it. He sat down across from him, licked the blood that was still on his fingers, and said in a more-or-less normal voice, "If you tell me what I want to know, right now, with no hesitation, I'll even try and buy you some leniency. Now, what are your other options? Tell them I'm B, have them probably not believe anyway and wake up one of these days with me hovering over your bed with a knife. Or you could not say anything, which will result in some painful and bloody consequences. Or you could cooperate and I'll try to get some leniency into your sentence. So, what will it be?"

I'm sure you can guess what Hisao chose.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Firstly, I'd like to thank HerLittleDoll for helping me edit Beyond the Limit from around Chapter, uh, 5 I think. It's been a great help and I have really benefitted from the critism. Anyway, thanks HerLittleDoll!_**

**Chapter 9**  
B stepped out of the interrogation room and thrust a sheet of paper into the interrogator's hand. "There, Hiro. All the answers you were asking for and some other bits of information you might find useful."

Hiro stared dumbly at the piece of paper. It had information like the ring leader's name, the location of the American headquarters and Japanese headquarters, along with other paramount facts written on it. "How… how did you get him to talk? How do you know he wasn't lying?"

For some reason, Blake apparently found that funny. He laughed. Humorlessly. The laugh sent chills up his spine. "Believe me… he didn't lie. The eyes are the portal into man's soul. I am particularly adept at reading people through their eyes." He stared into Hiro's eyes until the investigator away. "Anyway… he wasn't lying. I could tell."

Hiro just shook his head. Then his eyes landed on the gash on B's arm. "Blake? What happened to you? Did he injure you? How? I told you you shouldn't have gone in there…"

Once more B laughed. "Oh, do not worry yourself, Hiro."

"But… he…"

"This," B ran his finger delicately along the cut, "is self-inflicted." B's smirk unnerved Hisao deeply.

"S-s-self inflicted…?" Hiro stuttered, horror written on his face. "You mean you did that to yourself? Why?"

"Different human minds react differently to unexpected circumstances. Mostly with fear. You yourself just demonstrated that." B gave a low, menacing chuckle. All it took to break him was some wild claims, some blatant threats, and, well…" B shrugged and licked the blood off of his fingers. Hiro recoiled with disgust. B grinned at him; this time there was actual humor in it.

That fact revolted Hiro most of all. "What? You didn't expect me to run around with blood on my fingers, did you?"

Hiro shuddered. "You could have just gone to the bathroom…"

"This is quicker." He licked the remaining red drops off and wiped his hands on his pants.

"You are without a doubt one of the scariest men I've ever met in my life." Hiro gave a resigned sigh. "Thanks for the help."

"It was my pleasure."

"Oh… your next shift isn't for a few hours, right?"

"No, why?"

"Would you mind taking the prisoner to the county jail? I was going to do it myself but…" he shrugged.

B tilted his head to the side and scratched his black, gelled hair. All according to plan…so predictable. Hiro had recently shown he had a lazy streak. "I suppose I could. I have nothing better to do."

"Great! Here's the directions." Hiro handed him a two pieces of paper. One was directions, the other was a slip that verified the prisoner's identity and whatnot. "Just tell 'em Hiro sent you, they'll take the prisoner."

"Fine. Oh… this place? I've been there a few times, and know a quicker way to get there, through some back dirt roads. Hope you don't mind?"

"Na, just get him there."

---

"Hisao."

"Gods, Beyond, what do you want? Leave me alone… I told you everything you wanted to know!" Hisao looked a mess. He still had a little bit of dried blood on the side of his face, his eyes were red, and he was still shaking from fear.

"I'm taking you to prison."

"What? Why you? Of all people… why you…" Hisao was on the verge of tears. Tears of terror.

"I'm just taking you to jail. I won't even talk to you on the way there." B walked over and slapped hand and leg cuffs on him. Then he grabbed him by the back of his neck and led him out his police car. He opened up the door that led to the back, caged part and shoved Hisao into it. He shut the door, hopped into the front seat, started the car, and drove toward the jail. When he reached the lonely, abandoned stretch of dirt road that he had told Hiro about, he made a few quick calculations in his head as to which way the car would swerve if the front tire was shot, slammed on the brakes and twisted the steering wheel harshly to the left, leaving skid marks in the sand.  
Hisao was in hysterics. "What are you doing, Beyond?!" He was wiggling around in the back seat.

"Stop moving!" yelled Beyond. Hisao complied.

Beyond left the car, donned some leather gloves, grabbed a pair of boots he had just bought, and, shuffling along in such a way as he wouldn't leave tracks, 'walked' over to the spot where he had buried a sniper rifle a few days ago, when Hisao had first been brought in for questioning. He donned some gloves, unburied it, put the scope on Hisao's head and pulled the trigger. The window burst and blood flew around the back seat. Then he shot the front tire, to make it look like he'd skidded out of control after having the tire shot, which would suggest that he'd been in the car when the first bullet had fired. He sighed. He hated using guns. Not, of course, because he had any sort of aversion towards killing but because you couldn't learn anything by killing with guns. It was much more educational and enjoyable to experiment with knives and clubs.

He grabbed the sniper rifle, put on the boots and walked normally toward a nearby river, leaving obvious tracks. He walked back over to the spot where he had sniped Hisao. He took off the boots, donned his own shoes and shuffled back over to the river. He grabbed a small soap bottle from in his jacket and scrubbed the sniper rifle and boots thoroughly, then scrubbed the bottle itself. He took off his gloves, washed them thoroughly, and washed the soap bottle again. He then threw all of the items into the river. He had bought those boots using a false identity (he had gotten several other false identities along with his main one, Blake Holders, when he had been staying with his acquaintance much, much earlier. This identity had a fake background as a drug smuggler), so if they were found they'd send the police on a wild goose chase after a man who technically didn't exist. The sniper rifle had been bought at a black market using the same identity, along with the soap and gloves. This left no reason to suspect B as the killer.

Of course you know why Beyond killed him. No matter what Hisao promised, he couldn't allow him to live and still know his true identity. He had also figured that if he took over the interrogation, afterwards Hiro would ask him to take Hisao to the prison. It's the way the human mind worked. He's done some of the work, I'll see if I can get him to do it all.  
The only reason that he had even wanted to take over the interrogation was to gain prestige; basically, he killed a man for prestige. He figured he might have to divulge his identity to get Hisao, a strong man (B had seen that ever since he had been brought in), to talk. Then he realized he'd have to kill him. So, he set up a way to frame a nonexistent person as the killer (the so-called killer's motive is obvious; his background makes it likely that he's involved with the current drug ring case and in such rings it isn't uncommon to kill a captured associate) and make it so that there was no reason to suspect him. Hell, to their knowledge he didn't even have a motive for killing the guy. No one except L himself would suspect him for a second, and who would bother L with such a trivial case?

B shuffled back to the police car smirking. Once he was back at the car, he grabbed his gun and shot around the area he had sniped Hisao. It would make sense that he would have shot at a sniper, right? The he sat down in the driver's seat and slammed his head hard against the window, hard enough for it to break. He winced as things went out of focus for a second. Again, it would make sense for him to have suffered some sort of trauma, and in such a violent crash it wouldn't be suspicious at all for his head to have slammed into the window. Again, who besides L would suspect that a police officer with no apparent motive would go so far as to slam his head into a window to make himself seem innocent? B shook his head and touched the bloody lump on the side of his head. Then he shrugged, stepped out of the car, raced around the side and basically left a lot of frantic looking footprints to make it look like he'd actually been shooting at the guy, ducking for cover, etc. Deciding that he'd probably left sufficient proof of his innocence, he dialed the number of the Japanese Police Force HQ on his cell.

**_Hope you liked this chapter! And is it just me, or does B with a sniper rifle just seem.... Mello-ish? Whateva. REVIEW AND I WILL NOT WRITE YOUR NAME IN MY FAKE DEATH NOTE!_**


	10. Chapter 10

Wow, sorry that took so long guys! It's just that I've got a _lot _of stuff going on now that the school year's started. It's a fairly long chapter though and I _did _bring Near into this some more so don't kill me!!

Chapter 10

Near squirmed uncomfortably in the hard seat. He glanced enviously at the soft, empty seat behind the nearby desk, but decided against sitting in it. Just wasn't his style.

He leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes and rested his hand lightly on his bent knee. He had a sitting position similar to L's; he put one foot in the chair, while letting the other dangle off the side of whatever he was sitting on. He gave a soft sigh. He rarely, if ever left the SPK, and certainly never left the SPK to recruit people. This, however, was a special case.

Blake Holders. The man Near had been watching ever since he had stepped foot in Japan, and had been monitoring for quite a while before that. An amazing PI, a perfect citizen (he had committed no crimes, period. He hadn't even gotten a speeding ticket in his life), and a simply amazing and successful police officer. A perfect man to recruit into the SPK… right?

Near shifted slightly and then settled again. He opened his eyes and started twisting a small lock of his white mop-ish hair. Blake Holders seemed perfect. Except for a few disturbing reports.

Apparently he was an amazing interrogator. During the most recent case, a break-up of a major drug ring that was based mainly in America and Japan, he had broken the man Hisao, an infamous drug dealer who was closely associated with the big guns of the drug ring. Breaking him shouldn't have been as easy as it had been for Blake… then there was, of course, the fact that he had actually cut _himself_.

Near shook his head. _Don't let your human nature get in the way here._ He was disgusted that Blake had inflicted pain upon himself, but it wasn't illegal or wrong in any way; just disturbing. He couldn't allow that fact to skew his perceptions of this man.

Then there was the fact he wasn't sociable at _all_. Apparently, he was very unpopular around the police station. He was said to be quiet, reserved, yet he seemed to hold the world in utter contempt. It was said he was an expert at making you know he despised you, yet not making it overly obvious to the point where you could actually _tell _how you know. An 'art' few had.

Near briefly considered the facts of Hisao's death again. It was conceivable, of course, that the drug ring itself had eliminated Hisao but… how did Blake escape alive? Why did Blake insist on traveling on that deserted road no one should have known about? Two curious pieces of information… not enough to convict Blake, of course, but enough to make him look slightly suspicious in the sharp eyes of Near.

_Well, I'll meet him face to face today. I'll see if he's really all I think he is_. A slight smile graced his face. He was excited to meet him. Again.

"Mr. Holders?"

Blake didn't look up from his lunch when he said, "Yes?"

"I'm supposed to escort you to see a certain man. He wants to talk to you."

B felt his heart skip a beat. The day he'd been waiting for! His superficial expression didn't change, though. He simply packed up his lunch, stood up, and walked in front of the woman, bidding her to lead him to the man. The woman sniffed discreetly, turned sharply and walked down the hall briskly, the sharp clacking of her heels betraying her irritation. B grinned subtly and followed, both hands shoved into the pockets of his police uniform.

Near started from the light doze he had been in. The door had just opened. Feeling no obligation to stand, he simply stared and smiled at the man who had just walked through the door. He had black, clear, round eyes, gelled dark brown hair, and a haughty air about him. This was definitely the Blake Holders Near had seen about two months ago, sitting in his kitchen, eating jam straight from the jar.

"Blake Holders, I presume?"

"You presume correctly." He had a relatively deep voice, a voice not too much different from L's voice.

"Have a seat," Near said. He wondered if Blake would go for the comfortable chair behind the desk, but he didn't. He sat in the chair opposite Near.

_Nate Rivers. Still with his white mop of a head and his white, loose clothes. You haven't changed… but I am surprised you yourself came._ Nate Rivers, Near, N, one of B's primary competitors and, he had to admit, had been one of his only true friends. N had always been kind to B in that honest open way of his. He had chastised B whenever he did that which was morally wrong, but did it in a brotherly, loving way. B had always liked and respected Near. _I'm sort of glad he's not L. It wouldn't be as pleasant killing him as it would be killing L himself._

"Do you know who I am?" asked Near impassively. He wasn't asking to assert domination over Blake, but it was really just a simple question.

"No," said Blake. Few people had actually seen Near, it would have been more than a little suspicious if B had admitted to knowing N.

"I'm Near, head of the SPK."

B sat a little straighter in his chair, seemingly surprised, but inside he was smirking triumphantly. "SPK? What does the Special Provision for Kira want with a novice police officer?"

"I'm sure you know that we're not choosing based solely on your admittedly amazing performance as a police officer; we're more interested in the fact that you were an extremely accurate, quick and successful PI in America. We need people like you to join the SPK."

"But now that there's no Kira, isn't the SPK just an organization for the 'what if'?"

"Actually, no." At this Near started twirling a lock of his white hair. Blake had fascinating eyes; what had frightened and manipulated other people held a fascination for Near. They reflected a kind of blatant confidence, a I'm-better-than-you attitude, a sort of authority that wasn't that of, say, a judge or a police officer, but rather the authority of one who has power and will use it.

"After the Kira case ended, the SPK decided that, so as not to be dormant, we would involve ourselves with large, worldwide cases. Few people actually know this, but if you're involved with the right people, you can figure it out. That's unimportant though."

Near turned to Blake. "I've seen your amazing records. You've never been caught doing a crime. You were an amazingly accurate and successful PI in America. As a police officer, you've done a lot more than what's expected of you. And your college credentials are stunning. Frankly, you are the type of person we need on our team."

B bowed his head humbly. "You flatter me."

"I don't. And you know I don't."

B growled shortly and brought his head back up. Persistent. This man certainly was Near. "What qualifies someone for the SPK?"

"They have to be similar to L."

B was shocked. "L? Similar to L?! Who is like L?"

"You'd be surprised. What truly sets L apart is the fact that he's willing to actually _live_ for justice. He has no other purpose but to convict criminals. Few are that selfless, and even fewer are that selfless and as intelligent as L, since it's hard enough finding people as smart as him period. Those who are as smart as him though, and willing to sacrifice at least something for justice…" Near shrugged. "They're the people we look for. Because if another Kira arises… we want to make sure that the next Kira crisis is solved much faster than the first one. We need to be prepared. However, since I figure the probability of another Kira is low, we might as well stay on our toes and solve other large cases. Anyway, while you probably aren't as smart as L, we could certainly use you."

Near took note when Blake clenched his jaw slightly at the last statement. "So," he leaned back slightly, "I'm sure you can see that we're not just a 'what if' organization. "

B let out a tremulous sigh. His hands were shaking; presumably from nervousness, but really from a sense of, well, _victory_. _Half of my plan has been realized. _"What about my duties as a police officer?"

"Believe me, you'll have more important things to be doing in the SPK. Not at first, of course, but prove yourself and you could become a very powerful and influential person."

B's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Such an out-of-character line for Near. Was it possible…?

_Stop being a pessimist_, B silently chided himself.

"And where is the SPK?"

"Oh, here and there. Are headquarters are only known to a select few, but we do have smaller bases stationed around the world, including here, in the Kanto region of Japan."

"I assume that's where'll I be working?"

"You assumed correctly. If, of course, you take the job."

"Will there be interviews? Tests?"

"You'll be evaluated for the first few months that you're in the SPK. If you measure up, and we decide you'll make a beneficial contribution to the SPK, we'll induct you formally and give you an official spot on our team."

"If I accept, what does being in the SPK entail?"

"You would probably help various investigation teams with the less serious crimes, probably doing a lot of background checks and cataloging forensic evidence. You will get your chance to prove yourself at actual investigating, however."

_It sounds so similar to how we were trained at the Whammy House…_ B's eyes glazed over as he thought of his old home. He had loved yet hated the place; it was the place that had reared him, that had taught him most of what he now knew, yet it was the place that had held him back, had chained him; B… Backup.

He realized that his attention had strayed and he was shaking a little. He immediately stopped and stared Near in the eyes. "Do I have a choice as to whether I want to join or not?"

Near looked surprised. "Of course you do. Do you think we draft people into our services without giving them choice? There are no consequences for turning down the offer either, except that such an opportunity will never arise again."

_That's a nice way of putting it, Near…_ "So if I refuse then this door is permanently shut?"

"I wouldn't have put it that way, but yes, I suppose that would be the case."

B stood up and held out his hand toward Near. "Then I accept your proposal." Outside he was calm as ever, but inside…

_I've won, L._


	11. Chapter 11

_Ahh, been a while since I updated, sorry! And sorry if my writing style seems a bit 'off', I was trying to get the chapter finished in a hurry. Regardless, I hope you like it. We're almost done with the story, only about 3 more chapters left, so hang in there, a'ight?  
Review or… or… or I'll… cry. And you don't want that, do you?_

Chapter 11

"We think another Kira has emerged."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Not sure, of course, but a string of criminals from Guantanamo Bay and some other major prisons in the USA, as well as Canada and Mexico, just died of heart attacks."

"Don't jump to conclusions. It might not be a Death Note."

"What else could it be?"

Aizawa was slightly annoyed at how calmly Near responded to all of his statements. There might be another Kira on the loose and Near didn't even seem the least bit worried?

"Well… we'll just have to see what happens from here. If we proceed too quickly, we could just end up dying before we get anywhere." Near sighed and turned away from Aizawa. He looked at the blank screens of the many TVs on the wall, let out a deep breath and shook his head, his hair becoming even more bedraggled. "Get Blake in here."

"What? The newbie?"

"He's not a 'newbie' anymore. He's helped efficiently with several cases in the few months he's been here and has passed every test that I have posed to him, even though he didn't know he was being tested. There's one more test I want to pose to him before asking him to help with the case, but if he passes…" Near took a deep breath. If he passes…

"Aizawa… please. Bring Blake."

"Understood, Near," hissed Aizawa, annoyed.

Aizawa walked down the hall, grumbling under his breath about how incompetent Near was, when he slammed right into B.

"Sorry…" he murmured without looking up. He kept walking, then glanced behind his shoulder to see who he had walked into. He saw it was Blake and did a rapid 180, which in turn caused him to trip over his own feet and he fell flat on his face. "Ow…"

B turned calmly and didn't offer to help as Aizawa peeled himself off of the shiny tile floor. "Do you require something of me?"

Aizawa straightened out his jacket and tweaked his nose before answering, "Uh, Near wanted to see you. He wants your help with a new case."

Blake raised an eyebrow. "What about the current case I'm documenting?"

"Sure Near will find someone else to get on that, but…"

B cut Aizawa off with a raised hand. "Forget it. I'll go see Near, where is he?"

"Just go down that hall and…"

Blake was already walking away. All he'd needed to know was if Near was in his main office, which was down the hall 'that way'. B was elated that Near had finally contacted him, because frankly, he hadn't been making a whole lot of progress getting near L lately.

Mostly, he was just documenting different pieces of evidence in different cases and he helped with forensics. He was never allowed to be in the actual meetings where you actually got to talk to L. It irked him, but he knew there was no way to ask to see L and be conspicuous at the same time. He knew he would just have to let things take their course.

For the first time ever, he thought about what he would do after L was dead. Practically his whole life had been based around either defeating or killing L. Once L was gone, what would he do? Focus on killing L's successors so as to erase his mark permanently from the world? You could only kill L so many times before you get apprehended. Even B himself didn't think he'd be able to pull such a feat off as to kill all of L's successors. There was also no way he would just continue to be a detective/police officer. It wasn't what he wanted to do. He felt no desire to help people who were weak enough to be killed, stolen from, etc. There was also no chance that he would just become a normal human being, with a normal job and a normal life. _I _could _just commit suicide... _The thought wasn't one concocted out of desperation, out of despair; it was one concocted out of the way his mind worked. He would have completed his ultimate goal, and there really was nothing else he felt he had to live for. He might as well be dead. _With that thinking, I might was well try and kill all of L's successors. At least I'd die with a purpose in my heart besides that of dying._ He shrugged almost unconsciously and decided that such thoughts were best reserved for when the current task at hand was actually completed.

He knocked on the door that led to Near's office. "Who is it?" Near's amazingly young-sounding voice came through the door.

"It's Blake."

"Ah! Blake! Come in."

B entered, looked at Near, inclined his head slightly toward him and walked up behind him. Near was sitting on the floor, idly setting up some dominoes. B could barely hold back a smile. _He's still the old Near I knew and maybe even loved. But… am I still B?_

"Excuse me sir, but… dominoes?"

"I often fiddle with various objects and toys whenever I'm attempting to solve cases. It helps me keep my mind active, and provides short, pleasant reprieves from the constant and often gruesome job of an investigator."

"Understandable, I suppose. Why not something like video games instead?"

"Toys are cheaper."

This time B did smile. Such a practical reason for such an impractical person. "I see."

"We may have another Kira on our hands," stated Near, so suddenly and matter-of-factly that B was mentally thrown off balance for a second. He regained his composure quickly.

"Another Kira? So the Kira that just stopped killing last time has emerged again? Why after all this time?"

"Blake, the story about the real Kira never being apprehended was a lie."

"I figured."

Near was mildly surprised at his response. Near had been baiting him, seeing how he would react, and his reaction was nothing less than astounding. Which merited slight surprise from Near. "Might I ask how you figured?"

"First, there's no real reason for Kira to have just stopped killing. Also, if the original Kira did get apprehended or killed, and that was reported, it would plausibly cause anarchy and chaos. No longer would people have to be afraid of Kira's divine hand bringing judgment down upon them if they did something wrong. Frankly, saying that Kira was probably still out there but had just stopped killing would be a perfect excuse that would ensure that chaos would not immediately ensue, at least. Which means you probably caught Kira. Who was he? How did he kill?"

"Surprised you figured that much out. Not as surprised as other people might have been but…" Near's eyes glazed over for just a split second, then opened fully.

"He was a student named Light Yagami and he killed by writing someone's name in a supernatural notebook."

"A student… who kills people… with a supernatural notebook? Are you joking?" But B knew that Near didn't joke.

"Unfortunately, no."

"That's rather unbelievable."

"Which part?"

"Supernatural notebook bit. I _do _believe you though, Near. I wouldn't think you would joke about something as serious as this…"

Near tilted his head slightly. _You wouldn't, would you…?_

"Anyway, we know little about the current case. All we know is that a string of criminals from Guantanamo Bay and other major prisons around the USA and Canada suddenly died, all around the same time, from heart attacks. That's about it. What do you make of this information?"

Almost immediately he answered, "It's conceivably not Kira."

"Why do you say that?"

"If it was really Kira, or rather, a Kira, he would probably want to make himself known, and thus he would probably kill people from around the world in different prisons and not just those in a specific area. Even an idiot would have figured that much out from seeing how the previous Kira acted. If he didn't want it to be known that he was Kira, he wouldn't kill such an obvious amount of people. He'd probably try and do it gradually and again, in different areas as to make himself seem less suspicious. From that, we can deduce that it's probably a large organization that wants us to _think _it's a Kira. It would work in such an organizations favor if we expected they could kill like the previous Kira could."

_Amazing. From that small bit of information, he came to exactly the same conclusion I did in a shorter amount of time. You really are almost as good as L, aren't you?_

"My thoughts exactly. What could the goal of such an organization be?"

"Either the same as Kira's motivation: to destroy all evil, or they want to make the governments of the world think that they actually are Kira, and thus they would have leverage in mass political affairs. In that case, I would think that they would attempt to contact the SPK and make some threats, all mostly bluffs, and try to get us to back off from the case, and then they would start contacting other governments around the world, slowly trying to gain international power."

"You're exactly right, Blake. Actually, we did get a call similar to what you just described a few weeks ago right before the killings happened."

"Then what was the point of asking my opinion?"

"To test you. You passed with flying colors, I must say…" Near flicked over the lead domino in his chain and sent the rest falling, creating a moving spiral pattern. "I think it's about time I let you talk to L."


	12. Chapter 12

_Err, there are a few non-canon things in this chapter (about B meeting L and other people meeting L) so, meh, don't beat me up over it too much, mmK? _

_Last night I got this sudden urge to just... write, lol, so I got this chapter out in about 15 minutes (not including revising and editing) as well as half of chapter 13. So, again, sorry if the style seems a bit... off-ish._

**Chapter 12**

"…talk to L."

Those words had an amazing effect on B's body. His heart skipped a beat. His knees suddenly felt weak and he felt like he might collapse. Near's face blurred for a moment, and it was if a wave of heat swept over the room, obscuring everything. Then the moment was over. He blinked his eyes twice slowly then managed to stammer, "Eh-eh-el? L? The great detective L? _Me_? A newbie, talk to _L_?" He started chuckling, but those mere sounds couldn't satisfy the urge that was within him to throw back his head and laugh maniacally. Why was he so excited? It was just a talk, just a few words, just an exchange of sounds. Still, it was a major stepping stone that, to B, signified the beginning of a new stage in his plan. He planned to impress L, to surprise L with his wit and thinking processes, and to eventually make himself invaluable. Invaluable enough to be met with in person.

It _had _happened before, but few knew about those instances. Most of the Wammy boys had met him (B, Mello, Near), of course, but actually a few other investigators who often worked closely with L and had connections to one of those three Wammy Boys were permitted to meet L in person. B planned to use this confidential information to close in on L then pounce.

B just now became aware that Near was talking. "…what you told me, and we'll go from there."

"Eh, sorry, I didn't catch the first part. My mind was… wow. L…"

_You sure are excited about this, aren't you…? _"He's probably going to ask what you think about the current case. Just tell him what you told me, and we'll go from there."

"Fine."

Near nodded at one of his helpers, who pushed a couple of keys on a keyboard then adjusted his headset. All the TVs flashed for a moment, then a large calligraphic 'L' slowly appeared on a white background. B could barely contain his excitement and rage. It was almost as if he was being taunted. "Hello, Blake Holders."

_Synthetic voice? You never used that at Wammy's House. Cowardice or cautiousness? _

"It's an honor to finally talk to you, L."

"So tell me, what are your thoughts on the current case?"

_Didn't even acknowledge my greeting, the arrogant cretin. _He quickly reiterated what he had told Near.

There was silence from the speakers for a moment, then _his _synthetic voice came back, grating on B's ears. "I assume Near told you about the call the SPK received concerning the killings."

"He did."

"Then we obviously know that their motivation isn't to make a better world, but rather to gain power."

"Of course," snapped B, allowing some of his anger to overflow. Near glanced quickly at him, then started twirling his hair absent-mindedly.

"And we've already concluded it's probably not a Death Note, which means that the prisoners are being killed through other means that induce cardiac arrest. Several drugs can do that, but are they any drugs that can do that without leaving a measurable trace in the bloodstream?"

"Innex," B answered immediately. It was a drug that was recently discovered that when taken in even minuscule amounts it would send signals through your nerves, stopping all function, but first stopping the heart, and thus making it appear like it was a simple heart attack. You would take extract some fluid from a certain leaf and mix it with certain chemicals and bingo, you have innex. It wasn't useful for much else, and thus hadn't been made available to the general public.

"My thoughts exactly. Innex isn't bought very often either, both because of its deadly effects and because it's not widely known. Which means it shouldn't be too difficult to track all purchases of innex in the past, say, month, even if the sources are illegal. Innex has to be harvested from somewhere, and it uses a specific plant that is used for medicinal purposes as well, but isn't used often and isn't really sold illegally. Thus, there should be some records of that particular plant's sales."

"There are other explanations though, correct?"

"Of course," the voice said dismissively, "but this theory corroborates some other information I have received. It's the best lead we have to go on right now. Anyway, it shouldn't be that hard to track the sales, should it?"

"No, L."

"I'll do my own research, but I would like you to do some of your own as well. If you reach any other conclusions or find anything else out about the case, please contact Near, who will contect you with me." The screens went blank.

B ground his teeth together slightly and shifted his weight to his right leg. _Still the prideful cur you always were, L. Not even offering simple courtesies to the insects that you are addressing. It'll do the world good when I finally eliminate you. _

"A short meeting, yes, but how did you like your first talk with L?" Near asked casually as he slowly unwound his finger from his hair and then went to set up his dominos once more.

B set his face into a more or less neutral position and stated, "I found him rather… concise, and he didn't really say anything that I didn't already know or at least suspect. What was the point of that meeting?"

_First he's excited to the point of being giddy to talk to L, and now that he has all he can say is 'it was useless'? _In essence, that's what B was really saying. _You're interesting. _Near smirked slightly. _Very interesting. _"The point wasn't really to introduce you to any new material. It was more about you getting somewhat used to how L operates; he only states that which is necessary at the time and rarely indulges in small talk. Some people find him arrogant and prideful, but really, it's just that he has so much to do and little time to engage in pleasantries."

_Oh, so is that it? Hmph. You, like everyone else, have the completely wrong idea about L. _"Well, I would assume that I should get on the innex tracking?"

"Might be a good idea." Near triumphantly placed his final domino in place. "You're excused now, Blake. It was most interesting." His slender finger bumped against the first domino in line, which in turn created a ripple effect and caused the entire long line to methodically collapse. B inclined his head slightly toward Near, turned sharply and left the room, closing the door silently.

Near watched as B shut the door. "Well, that went off without a hitch."

The man who had been operating the various phrases that Near had prepared for 'L' slipped off his headphones and nodded. "Didn't it though? I was afraid he would see right through our ploy."

"How could he? There's no reason for him to suspect that L is dead or that I am L. Stop worrying so much."

The man nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. In the long run though, how much would it matter if he knew that L had died and his successor was now L? You're doing as good as a job as L ever did. Don't think it would affect anything too much."

"Is there anything to gained by revealing that L is dead and has been replaced?"

"Not really…"

"Then why do it?"

Outside, B removed his ear from the door and started walking down the hall.


	13. Chapter 13

_Next to last chapter. Phew, B's been on a journey, hasn't he? And __**when **__(XD) you review please try not to include spoilers, OK? I for one happen to read reviews before the story itself to see if the story is any good and I would hate for someone to read spoilers before they even read the story._

Chapter 13

Even as B's fingers typed skillfully on the keyboard and even as his eyes scanned the massive amounts of information, he couldn't really concentrate on the job he was performing. Only one thing was on his mind. _L was dead this whole time. I've been chasing after a dead man. A _dead _man. _B pounded the 'enter' key so forcefully that the person working next to him looked at him fearfully, then kept typing. His reputation at the SPK was virtually the same as that that he had had at the police station. As the outcast, the creepy guy who happened to be very good at his work but socially inept.

_How… how can he be dead now? For so long I've wanted to kill him myself, for so long I wanted to be the one to drag a knife across his pale throat, for so long… _B bit his lip so hard blood seeped out. He licked the blood off his lips and savored the metallic taste for a second. That taste seemed to embody all that he was feeling right now; confusion, rage, and… a strange, creeping feeling of contempt. _L, you were good… you were too good to be killed by anyone other than me. _It was a strange relationship he and L shared. B respected L greatly, but he also held him in contempt for holding him down, for restricting him as a mere backup. B had always figured that he would have to prove himself to make L see the truth, that the backup was truly better than the original, and with L dead, well, how could he do that?

_It never mattered who L was… it was the symbol of L that I was always against. What L represents in the grand scheme of things; an arrogant, over-inflated icon that is misrepresented to the world, a giant façade, a giant lie, which held down N, M, N, A, and me to a mere shell of what we really could be… an evil that should be eradicated. Permanantly. Does it really matter that Near is L? No. L Lawliet means nothing to me… it's L that I want. _He nodded, glad that his thoughts on the recent matter were affirmed, then started thinking about how he would kill N.

He stroked the side of his coat. _Should I use it today…? _

B had spent many of his years in America perfecting a little device that he had planned to use to kill L. Besides innex, there was another drug that was used to create heart attacks without leaving a measurable amount of anything in the bloodstream. It was the same substance he had used to escape asylum. B had used some of his extra time to create a 'gun' (it would be more accurate to describe it as a dart gun) that would shoot a tiny rod of metal into the victim's body. When the drug was mixed with salt, surprisingly it's effectiveness was tripled. A tiny metal rod saturated with the substance that could later be removed from the corpse could kill within minutes. B had spent years perfecting the device. It was comprised of two amazingly thin pieces of wood, thin enough to be slipped into a pocket in a jacket without leaving any sort of bump in the cloth, with a slight curve and trigger at the end, shaped vaguely like a water gun. In the middle was a plastic tube, and a small device made for compressing air inside the curve. When you pressed the tiny trigger, air shot out of the tiny tube, propelling the small rod into the flesh of the target. Later B could simply remove the rod and slip it into a special pocket in his jacket along with the dart gun. He had finally finished the device right before he had left for Japan. This way he could avoid the problems guns presented; their noise, the obvious bullets and their tendency to be noticed.

_And after I kill Near, what then? _B shrugged mentally. He didn't really care what happened to him after Near was dead. He would have completed his goal in its essence; he would have shown that he really was dominant over the position of L. He would request a private meeting with Near, and if he received permission for it, he would walk in, shoot him, make it appear as if the mark left by his gun was inflicted when Near fell,and see what happens after that. If he was apprehended (which he knew he probably would be), fine, he would try to escape, but what did life have for him after that? Nothing really. The rest of life would just be a game, a plaything made for amusement and not for any real purpose. If he wasn't apprehended…? He'd probably just stay with the SPK. Where else did he have to go? He really did think that Kira was despicable. He wasn't against murder as much as the amazingly under-handed methods that Kira used to murder. _Writing a name in a notebook to kill someone? It's a violation of the sanction of life. _In B's twisted mind, it was completely fine to kill someone as long as the playing field was fairly equal or one person had worked to gain the upper hand. One reason why he found guns so distasteful. When guns were involved the playing field was normally never equal even if the other person had a gun and little work had to be done to make the balance tip in your favor.

B stretched his hands over his head and yawned slightly. Now was as good a time as any, he supposed. He quickly printed the information about the sales of the innex and called Near on his own personal intercom.

"Hello? Near?"

"Ah, Blake. What is it?"

"I have some information here that I think you might find useful. Would you mind if I requested a private meeting?"

"Not at all." Near's voice was strangely neutral, even for Near.

"I'll be there in a few minutes." He grabbed the pieces of paper, stood up and started walking towards Near's office. His legs were almost shaking with anticipation. _I never expected I'd be killing you, old friend, but that's the way life goes. _He took a deep steadying breath. It wouldn't be good if he walked in and he seemed nervous. He walked up to the door and knocked politely.

"Come in," came Near's voice.

B opened the door and saw Near sitting, back turned to the door as always, playing with some action figures. He was the only one in the room. B closed the door and locked it subtly.

"Well, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

B slipped his hand inside his pocket, bowed his head, uttered a soft _goodbye_ and drew the dart gun. He fired at Near's back.

The next chain of events happened so quickly that B could barely comprehend them. A blur of motion, a soft _cough_, and searing pain in his leg. He gasped and fell to his knees. There was another soft cough, and his shoulder started burning intensely. Blood seeped down his jacket. He clenched his teeth and looked at Near, indifferent as ever, who was completely unharmed. He shuddered and placed the gun in his hand a few feet away from him. "Despicable devices." He turned to Blake and said, "Well, I'm quite dissapointed in you… Beyond."


	14. Chapter 14

_Phew! Final chapter. I hope everyone enjoyed the story, it was a blast to write. Thanks to all who reviewed (and will review), I really appreciated (and will appreciate) it! Special thanks to HerLittleDoll for helping me edit some of it too._

Chapter 14

B looked at Near and couldn't stop a smile from spreading across his face, despite the pain he was feeling and the rage he should be feeling. He chuckled slightly. _I am insane, I am purely mad... I should be angry as hellfire at him but… I feel… euphoric. _He gasped as another wave of pain went through his leg. "Since… agh… since when did you know? And why didn't you just kill me?" One hand was clutched to his shoulder, the other to his leg, just below the knee. _I think he broke both bones. _He moved his good leg to the side then gently slid the injured one after it so he was laying on his side, on his good shoulder.

"I suspected ever since I heard about your PI career in America, and I knew for sure after I heard about the interrogation. I didn't kill you because I'm not a killer. Too bad you can't say the same, Beyond." Near gazed at Beyond. Well, not quite at him, more like through him. "Why, Beyond? Why did you kill those three innocent people?"

"I wanted to defeat…"

"I know that!" Near yelled, and B was shocked to see tears shining in his eyes. _Near is crying?! Near never cries! Did this affect him that much? I know we were friends but…_

"What I want to know is this: why did you go to such lengths to assert dominance over him? Why couldn't you just be content as a backup?"

B grunted and adjusted himself to where he was being supported by an extended arm so he could look Near in the eye. "You know, I always tried to convince myself that it was L I hated, but now that I really think about it…" his voice trailed off. "I think… I think it was always myself that I hated. I think that I knew that I would never be as good as L, so I dedicated myself fully to the task so fully that I began believing that I truly was better than L, so fully that I began to think he was holding me back and it wasn't that I wasn't as good as him. Now here, at the end, I finally acknowledge that simple truth… Does it really matter in the long run, though? I might as well be dead…" He groaned as another wave of pain came from his wounds. "Near, if I asked you to, would you kill me?"

Near had ceased crying and was back to his calm, emotionless self. "No."

"Well, could you at least do me the courtesy of answering some questions for me?"

"Of course."

"How did you figure out it was me?"

"At first, it was more instinct than actual evidence. When I heard about an amazingly talented and successful PI in LA, around where you were put in asylum, I thought that it just might be you. Also, the way you solved cases reminded me of the phsyc profile that I had built of you during our time together at Wammy's House. When I heard that you moved to Japan, I came up with a few theories. One, this suspicious person isn't really Beyond Birthday and I'm just being paranoid. Two, you are Beyond Birthday and the reason you were a PI in America was so that you could build up a résumé and then come to Japan to join the Japanese Police Force in hopes to join the SPK so that you could get closer to L. I read about the LABB Murder Cases, so I figured that after that little episode you'd probably want to kill L instead of just defeat him. Thus, you'd probably want to get closer to him and I figured that you would figure that the SPK was the best way to go. Three, you were Beyond Birthday but you had lost your memories."

B groaned slightly. "Why would you think that?"

"I had to consider every option. Many drugs that create heart attack like symptoms…"

B nodded slightly. So, Near had even managed to figure out how he'd escaped from asylum.

"…induce memory loss, and I had to consider that maybe you'd lost your memories. If so, I decided I would drop all charges you had as Beyond Birthday and consider you a new person. Not only because I thought it was a just thing to do, but because of personal bias, I confess. If possible I would I have liked to keep you out of prison."

"Isn't that… mmph… sweet? Near actually cares for someone?"

"Yes. Astonishing, I know." A wry smile made its way to Near's face. _B… oh Beyond, why couldn't you have just been content like the rest of us?_ "When you came to Japan, I realized that my second theory was probably right, but I couldn't rule out any of the other theories yet. In fact, I couldn't be sure until today, when you revealed your true intentions and thoughts. Back to the main point, when I heard about your… extreme… interrogation, I knew that it was certainly you. I still couldn't rule out the possibility that you had indeed lost your memories while some of your sadistic nature remained, but I knew it was you. So I decided to help you along with the plan I supposed you were trying to advance. I allowed you to come into the SPK and allowed you to overhear that I was L."

"How would you even have known that I would have stayed and listened?"

"I'll admit, I didn't expect you to eavesdrop the very first time. I planned to have a similar speech after every time we met, hoping that sooner or later your insatiable curiosity would lead you to trying to hear pieces of information through the door. I thought that you might wait until your hunt for L came to a standstill, but I overestimated your patience. Then I figured you would request a private meeting with me and would try to kill me somehow. I'll admit, I had no idea how you would attempt to do it." Near reached over towards B's dart gun contraption and studied briefly. "Intriguing device. You made this yourself." It wasn't a question.

"So... you basically knew what I was going to do even before I did…" B grinned at Near and tilted his head. Everything seemed fuzzy, and the pain in his leg and shoulder had dulled considerably. He knew this was a bad sign. He was about to pass out. "Near, I underestimated you… severely."

Near was silent as he gazed into B's eyes. They were… deep. They reflected anger, regret, angst, contentment, even happiness. Who was Beyond, truly? Was he a crazed serial killer? Was he L's doppelganger? Was he wholly evil? Did he have any sense of justice whatsoever? How and when had he changed from the quiet boy who used to always help Near with his homework and his school projects to a demented lunatic who was only interested in blood? He didn't voice any of these questions, but just kept staring until he was swallowed up by the hypnotic nature of those eyes.

"Finished staring yet?" B asked impassively. He felt… nothing. No emotions, no pain… he felt like a shell that had been abandoned by its soul long ago. _Is this what death feels like? _He rolled onto his back and let himself slip into the soft embrace of unconsciousness…

_Blake Holders, otherwise known as Beyond Birthday, has been apprehended after his many long years of hiding. After his attempt to assassinate the head of the SPK, N, Blake was convicted to a life in prison. Life at the SPK resumed as normal, the incident all but forgotten by most. To the majority, it was just another incident to be dealt with and cast aside, condemned to simply be another successful case. _

The feel of it was cold and smooth. The top of its head reflected light, and it's red eyes glowed eerily whenever they were illuminated. Near's finger stroked the top delicately, then he set it down off to the side so he could resumed looking over a certain file.

The small figure with black hair, a white shirt and red eyes stood there, melancholy with the other three figures. One was tall, blonde, cocky-looking, dressed in leather. The other had reddish hair, goggles, shy-looking pose, holding a small, handheld gaming device. The final figure was sitting, dressed in all white, shaggy white hair framing a young, innocent face. As Near glanced back at the figures, he cried silently, yearning for the past.


End file.
